


Intimate Details

by clearwaterchild



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunk Sex, F/F, Gender or Sex Swap, Massage, Orgy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, fem!Mello - Freeform, fem!near - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 20:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearwaterchild/pseuds/clearwaterchild
Summary: Mello’s not sure who invited Near. She wishes she knew, so she could give them a piece of her mind (and perhaps a piece of her fist). She would have thought that a Facebook event titled “Mello’s 23rd Birthday Orgy” would only include guests hand-selected by Mello herself, but it’s clear that’s not the case.[OR: The best-laid plans often go awry, and Mello's plan is not the best.]





	Intimate Details

**Author's Note:**

> Vacillate: the fic that took one day to write and two years to rewrite. This is that rewrite. If you've read Vacillate, I hope this is better. If you haven't read Vacillate, don't. Read this instead. Thanks.

Mello’s not sure who invited Near. She wishes she knew, so she could give them a piece of her mind (and perhaps a piece of her fist). She would have thought that a Facebook event titled “Mello’s 23rd Birthday Orgy” would only include guests hand-selected by Mello herself, but it’s clear that’s not the case. Near is the only party guest Mello’s not close with, but out of all the people to invite, Near is the _worst_.

She brought some expensive massage oils, though, and she hasn’t caused any issues, so Mello decides to grin and bear it. She figures she won’t have a difficult time staying the hell away from Near once things get going.

She will admit, she’s still a little surprised that this thing even got off the ground. It started as a joke, a Facebook event she and Matt created to stir things up in their friend group. It was all fun, good-natured, facetious bullshittery up until the point Red asked, _so this is actually happening right...wine and chocolates and scented candles and all_. That was the point that the bullshittery ended (for the most part) and the planning started.

Now, they’re all bustling around Mello and Matt’s shared apartment, drinking nice wine out of blue Solo cups, nibbling on the fancy chocolates Linda brought, and chatting in small groups. Mello thinks they’re all waiting for the liquid confidence to set in--or, at least, she is. While she waits, she sits on the couch with Matt, Red, and Tasha, shooting the shit and taking long sips of wine to calm her nerves.

It’s not that she’s _scared_ , really, she’s just a little apprehensive. She’s never done this before. None of them have ever done this before. So, she wants to get drunk enough--she wants everyone to get drunk enough--that this all goes smoothly. She can’t imagine anything more mortifying than an awkward, sober birthday orgy. She steals a glance at Near, who hasn’t had a single drink all night, and feels her stomach knot up. She takes another sip of wine.

Matt nudges her. “You all right?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Mello says, feeling a rush of relief at the familiar contact.

“Nervous?”

Mello hesitates. “A bit.”

Matt links his arm in hers and lazily laces their fingers together, another familiar gesture that loosens the knot in Mello’s stomach. “Me too,” he says, and Mello breathes a little easier.

She rejoins the conversation, talking and drinking until her body numbs and her thoughts feel like water flowing from her mind to her mouth.

It’s Shay who suggests they get started, and she doesn’t do it by grinding everyone’s conversations to a halt and making a loud announcement. Instead, she simply taps Red on the shoulder and asks if he’d like to give her a massage. Mello appreciates that. It makes the sex feel like a natural continuation of the party instead of a hard shift of direction. It also means that Shay and Red put on a bit of a show before everyone else gets going. Mello appreciates that, too.

She watches as Red helps Shay out of her shirt, exposing an elegant, unlined, sheer pink bra with delicate cream lace detailing that Mello only gets a few seconds to notice before Red unclasps it and tosses it aside. Mello tightens her grip on Matt’s hand as she watches Red run his hands down Shay’s sides, grip her hips, and pull her in for a kiss. Shay’s hand finds the back of Red’s neck. Red’s hand finds the small of Shay’s back. Then Shay kneels on the couch, crossing her arms over the back and laying her head down on top of them, and Red grabs one of the massage oils Near brought.

Tasha gets up to give them more room, and her movement spurs everyone else to move as well. Mello’s not sure if it’s because everyone’s drunk and massages sound like a great idea, or because everyone is too awkward to consider going against the grain, but people begin pairing off and passing around the massage oils.

Matt lets go of Mello’s hand and extricates his arm from hers.

Mello glances up to meet his eyes. “Wanna…?” she asks.

Matt breaks eye contact. His gaze flits to Linda, who’s in the kitchen whispering quietly with Near (who is _still_ not drinking, as though she’s deliberately trying to keep Mello on edge, the prude). “Um,” he says. “Actually, I think I’m going to….”

“Oh,” Mello says, standing up when he does. “Yeah, sure.”

Matt looks back at Mello. “Is that…? Are you good with that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Mello says, because she is. She’s just a little drunk, a little caught off-guard, is all.

And she can’t help feeling a little lost once Matt leaves her side. It’s not that she’s _upset_. She can do this with Matt whenever she wants, and it’s exactly the point of an orgy to branch out and do things with other people. But, loath as Mello is to admit it, without the familiar terrain of Matt’s body grounding her, she feels like she’s in uncharted territory, afraid to take a step in any direction. She takes another sip of wine, trying to get back the ease she felt with Matt’s hand in hers.

Mello watches as Matt pulls Linda away from Near. She watches as he kisses her, pressing her back into the kitchen counter. She watches as he hoists her up so she’s sitting on the counter, as he places his hands on her hips and pulls her to him. She looks away.

Her eyes find Near, still in the kitchen, still unpaired. Her directionless gaze hardens into a focused glare. She finds her confidence.

She’s going to make Near leave.

She puts her drink down and strides over to the kitchen, passing Matt and Linda as she approaches Near. “Hey.”

Near brings a hand up to twirl a lock of her hair. “Hi.”

Mello knows just how she’s going to do this. “Wanna give me a massage?”

Near looks surprised, as well she should, but she says, “Sure. It would be nice to actually get some use out of your present, wouldn’t it.”

“Yeah,” Mello says. In one motion, perhaps a little awkwardly, Mello grabs Near’s hand and begins leading her into the living room. It’s okay that it’s awkward, she reassures herself, because she’s trying to make Near leave. That’s her goal. But she still feels tense.

She finds a clear space on the floor and parks herself and Near there. She’s maybe a little drunker than she thought she was.

“Sitting up, or lying down?” Near asks.

“Lying down.”

“Almond or apricot oil?”

Mello thinks. “Apricot.”

“Apricot,” Near repeats, and busies herself looking for a bottle of apricot oil.

Mello doesn’t know if she should keep her shirt on until Near starts paying attention to her again, or if she should take it off and show off her bra. She finds her wine and takes another sip of it, then decides her bra--a fire-engine red, lacy balconette perfect for grabbing and keeping attention--is too hot to keep under wraps. She pulls her shirt over her head, a little flame of triumph rising within her as she feels eyes snap to her. Someone whistles. For the first time all night, she feels like this is _her_ birthday orgy.

When she looks up, Near’s staring.

“What,” she asks.

Near shrugs. “Nothing. I found the apricot oil.”

Mello goes to unclasp her bra. Something stops her. “Take your shirt off,” she says on a whim. She is, after all, trying to make Near uncomfortable.

Near sets down the apricot oil and begins unbuttoning her shirt. When Mello sees what Near has on underneath, she almost bursts out laughing. Near’s wearing a _sports bra_. It’s gray and plain and boring, and Mello is glad that she still has her own bra on for comparison. She didn’t put on sexy lingerie for _this_ , she tells herself, staring for maybe too long at Near’s chest. It’s a good thing she’s taken it upon herself to get Near to leave.

Infuriatingly, Near doesn’t seem to notice her own inferiority. She leaves her shirt with Mello’s and motions for Mello to lie down. Mello unclasps her bra and folds it gently, taking care to wrap it in her shirt so nothing gets on it, then lies on her stomach, resting her head on her folded arms.

“This might be cold for a moment,” Near says, and she’s right. Her oil-slick hands feel like ice against Mello’s back. Mello bears it silently, using this as further evidence that Near needs to go, and soon. “Sorry.”

“Hm.” Mello doesn’t stay cold for long. The apricot oil warms up, filling the air around her with a pleasant scent, and Near’s hands are surprisingly deft as they rub small circles into her neck. She lets out a little sigh before she can catch it. Near doesn’t appear to hear.

“You’re all tight through here,” Near says. “All knotted. Down here, too,” and one of her hands works out a knot in Mello’s upper back.

“I get stressed a lot,” Mello says, unconsciously leaning into Near’s touch. She is definitely drunker than she thought she was.

“Clearly.” Mello can hear the smirk in Near’s voice, and her pride leaps into her throat, ready to bite back at the next comment Near makes. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Go away.” It’s not a good comeback, and Mello feels a stab of shame at her lack of wit. If Near says anything else, she tells herself, Mello will just get up and leave herself. Thankfully, Near is silent after that, her presence fading away in Mello’s mind as her small hands work minor magic on Mello’s back. Despite herself, Mello starts to relax.

Mello’s not sure how long she stays like this, on her stomach with Near’s hands rubbing her nerves away. She hears a low moan from another corner of the room, and guesses that things must have started heating up. Near will leave soon, she thinks. She can’t quite bring herself to be happy about that.

“Relaxed?” Near asks.

“Mm,” Mello hums before she can stop herself. Her mind comes back into the real world and she finds that she’s been pressing herself into Near’s touch this whole time.

“Good,” Near murmurs, so close to Mello’s ear that Mello feels the heat of her breath. Then, Near’s hands stop massaging and begin ghosting over Mello’s skin, forming little figure-eights on her lower back, leaving little goosebumps in their wake. Mello shivers at the touch, feeling the warm glow of arousal begin to stir within her. This isn’t right, something inside her thinks. Near’s supposed to be leaving.

In the moment, though, she can’t exactly reason out _why_ Near is supposed to be leaving. She figures that’s probably bad, but she’s surprised to find that the majority of her doesn’t mind.

Near settles her hands fully on Mello’s hips, the tips of her fingers making tiny circles along Mello’s hipbones. Mello squeezes her thighs together, trying to slow the rising, pulsing heat she feels. She hates Near, she reminds herself when Near’s fingers dip briefly below the waistband of her jeans. It’s only a matter of time.

Mello lets out a long breath that could be a sigh, or a hum, or a moan. She mentally berates herself for her drunkenness. It’s making her weak.

Near places her hands on Mello’s back again, soft and pleasingly warm. She runs them over Mello’s skin, flat against it, the heels of her palms applying light pressure as they move from Mello’s lower back upward. Mello sighs again, and her legs twitch. Her heartbeat speeds up. Near’s attentions aren’t relaxing anymore, Mello realizes. They’re _exciting_.

Near’s hands press and pull in just the right way. Mello’s imagination kicks into gear. Unbidden, the images flow into her mind, showing her all the other things Near’s hands could do. She tries to push them down. Near will leave soon, she thinks. She tries not to be disappointed.

She’s starting to ache.

Then Near’s hands come to rest on Mello’s lower back, fingertips brushing the sides of her hips, thumbs lightly rubbing her dimples.

“Mm,” Mello hears herself say. She closes her eyes and, in a moment of drunken weakness, allows the images to come forth. In her mind, Near’s hands go lower, sliding her pants off and dipping between her legs and moving her thong aside and--

“Turn over,” Near says.

Mello snaps out of her reverie. “What?” she asks, a flush rising to her cheeks.

“Turn over,” Near repeats.

Mello does, a little dazedly, trying to shake the images from her head. She hates Near, she tells herself. Near is leaving.

She tries to bring herself back into the present by surveying the room to see who’s doing what. She finds, unexpectedly, that a lot of people are still massaging one another, having either switched roles or traded partners or both. The one exception is Shay and Red, moving together slowly on the couch. _Some orgy_ , Mello thinks.

She doesn’t see Matt and Linda anywhere. They’re not in the kitchen, or on the couch, or on the living room floor--

“They went into Matt’s room a little while ago,” Near says quietly, as though reading Mello’s mind.

“What? They-- oh. Oh.” _Some damn orgy_ , Mello thinks again, feeling like a stone has dropped in her stomach.

“Are you jealous?”

Mello fights the feeling down. She decides to be mad at Near instead. “No.”

“Oh.” Near plays with Mello’s hair, running her fingers through it and twirling little locks of it and splaying it out around Mello’s head. A pleasant little shiver runs down Mello’s spine. “That’s a little disappointing.”

“Why?”

“I’ve heard it’s better when you’re jealous.” Then Near twists a lock of Mello’s hair between her fingers and leans in for a kiss. Mello returns it without thinking, then stares up at Near, baffled.

“What?” she asks.

Near shrugs. “I thought I...should,” she says, “before….”

“Before,” Mello repeats, her mind going blank. Then Near’s hands are at Mello’s waistband, undoing the button of her jeans, sliding the zipper down. Mello comes to a realization. “Oh.” This wasn’t supposed to happen, she thinks. She was supposed to be making Near uncomfortable. Near was supposed to be leaving.

Near stays her hand, fingers still loosely holding Mello’s zipper. “Oh?”

Mello takes a moment to process. This isn’t how her plan was supposed to turn out. Near’s still here, and Mello’s stunned, drunk, and turned on. The desperate ache in her groin is beginning to spread to the rest of her body. Matt stole off to go fuck Linda in private. Near’s hands are _so close_ to where she wants them. “Nothing.” Mello lifts her hips and lets Near help her out of her pants.

The second her pants are off, she feels her nerves come rushing back. She’s never been with a girl before. She thinks she may not be drunk enough for this to go well. She thinks she may not ever be drunk enough for this to go well.

“They match,” Near notes. Mello looks down. Yes, she thinks a little wildly. She matched her bra and panties for the orgy. This is not a difficult task.

Though she supposes it may be, for weak people who wear sports bras. Even in her head, it’s not as sick of a burn as she’d like it to be, so she keeps her mouth shut.

“Could you put your bra back on?” Near asks.

Mello stares. “Why?” she asks, anxiety and self-consciousness overtaking her. _What’s wrong with my boobs?_

“I like it when things match,” and Near says it like it’s so obvious, and Mello feels a tight knot twist in her stomach. She thinks maybe she’s nervous. She thinks maybe she hates Near.

She grabs her bra and puts it back on, though, because she put effort into her appearance tonight and she’ll be damned if she lets that effort go to waste.

Near pulls away for a second. Her eyes roam over Mello’s body, and Mello feels the urge to cover herself under the weight of Near’s gaze. Then Near bites her lower lip, subtly, and Mello realizes that Near’s not judging, she’s... _appreciating_.

_Fuck_.

“You look nice,” Near says.

“Of course I do,” Mello says, a little too quickly. “I look amazing.”

Near rolls her eyes and smiles. “You do.”

And that sets Mello even more on edge, because she was expecting a rebuke, or an insult, but instead she got agreement. Fuck that.

“You look like you need another massage already,” Near comments.

“Fuck off,” Mello replies eloquently.

“Nervous?”

“No.”

Near’s fingers play at the waistband of Mello’s red lace thong, and Mello’s breath speeds up. Whether it’s from excitement or nerves, she’s not sure. She hears Near’s breathing change, too. Then the fingers dip lower, just inside the front of Mello’s thong. Near glances up for a moment, her eyes meeting Mello’s. A question. Mello swallows hard, blinks once, and nods. An answer.

Near’s hand moves slowly, knuckles stretching out the thong so Near’s fingertips are just barely brushing Mello’s skin. Near has dropped her gaze, but her eyes flick up to meet Mello’s again. Mello breathes out slowly. Near looks back down, and then her touch is there, fingertips rubbing at Mello’s swollen inner lips, slick with arousal.

“Wow,” Near says, fingertips circling Mello’s pussy with no friction. “You’re wet.”

“Shut up,” Mello says, turning away to hide how her face heats up.

Then Near’s slick fingertips move upward to stroke Mello’s clit, and Mello forgets to be embarrassed. She moans and cants her hips up into Near’s touch, grinding against Near’s fingers, digging her own fingers into the carpet.

“Oh,” Near says, as though she’s discovering something for the first time. She spends some time exploring Mello’s clit, first rubbing soft circles over it, then giving it fast, feather-light touches that could almost be vibrations, then stroking it between the pads of her middle and ring fingers.

“Shit,” Mello breathes, her hands clenching themselves into fists.

Near shoots Mello a little triumphant half-grin and keeps stroking until Mello pushes hard into Near’s touch and moans. Then Near stops-- _damn her_ \--and moves her hand down and rubs Mello’s clit with the knuckle of her thumb while her fingers tease the sensitive skin around Mello’s pussy.

“Oh my God,” Mello whispers.

Mello groans when Near slides two fingers into her, but grows quiet, even a little unsettled, while Near touches her gently, somewhat clumsily balancing the work of her thumb and that of her fingers. Compared to the massage earlier, Near’s touch now feels fumbling, unsure, and a little sloppy. It occurs to Mello to wonder if Near is nervous.

It occurs to her to wonder if Near is inexperienced.

She stops wondering when Near begins to find a rhythm, slow and steady and far more adroit after the last few moments’ uncertainty. “ _Fuck_ ,” she gasps when Near curls her fingers just right. Her eyes screw shut. Her back arches. Her head presses hard against the floor and her right leg tenses and bends at an odd angle and she doesn’t care, she can’t now, she can care later. “God. Jesus. Fucking.” She hears Near chuckling and covers her mouth with her hand, stopping at least the words from escaping. “Mmm.”

Then there are hands on her breasts. Two soft hands, cupping her breasts through her bra, squeezing and massaging them.

She opens her eyes.

Shay’s eyes stare back at her. “Hey,” Shay says softly. “Is this okay?”

Mello pulls her hand away from her mouth long enough to say, “Yeah,” then places it back over her mouth.

“Can I take your bra off?”

Mello shakes her head.

“Leave it on,” Near says, “but take her hand away.”

Shay places a hand on Mello’s wrist. “Can I?”

“Hm-mm.” Mello again shakes her head. Near’s fingers send another jolt of pleasure shooting through her, and she clamps her hand even more firmly over her mouth as she feels obscenities forming on her tongue.

Shay’s hands go back to Mello’s breasts, reaching inside her bra to play with her nipples. Someone fists a hand in her hair, pulling a little roughly, scratching their fingernails against her scalp. Mello gasps into her hand.

More hands find her skin. Fingertips brush down her sides, palms rub warmth into her thighs. It’s like a spotlight of touch, and Mello basks in it, loving the attention paid to her in tangible form.

Near finds a new rhythm, fast and hard, her hands setting the pace for all the other hands that are touching Mello. And all at once, it comes together. There are hands on her breasts and hands on her stomach and hands in her hair and fingernails scraping her inner thighs and Near’s touch a constant, thrumming presence sending waves of pleasure coursing throughout her body. Her hand falls away from her mouth, and as the white-hot vertigo sends her head spinning she hears herself spouting a constant embarrassing stream of “oh God, oh God, just like that, shit, fuck, oh my God, right there, fuck, God, oh my Jesus _fuck_ , _oh_ , _fuck_.”

She comes with her whole body, vision whited-out, ears ringing, skin prickling.

Then all else stills, leaving Mello the only one moving. Her heart pounds to recover the beats it missed. Her lungs burn as she gasps for breath. As she tries to recover from her orgasm, she feels an awkward silence descend upon the room.

Then, Shay says, “Happy birthday, Mello,” at the same time that Red says, “Good job, team,” and the tension is broken. Mello hears hooting and snapping and giggling, and then people disperse to pick up where they left off. Only two people stay.

The first is Near. She sits back on her heels and grabs her shirt, then wipes her hand on it. Mello grimaces. Near doesn’t seem to notice. She doesn’t seem to be seeing Mello, even though her eyes are pointed toward Mello’s face. For a while, she just sits there, a strange expression in her eyes and a cryptic half-smile playing at her mouth.

Then her attention snaps to Mello, then to the person behind her, and she nods once. “I’m going to wash my hands,” she says. She gets up and heads for the bathroom.

“Okay,” Mello mutters toward Near’s back.

And the second….

“So, happy birthday,” a familiar voice says.

Mello tilts her head back to look at the owner of the hands that are still loosely tangled in her hair. “Matt.”

Matt smiles. “Hey,” he says. “You look like you enjoyed yourself.”

“Thoroughly,” Mello says, still buzzing. She clumsily props herself up on her elbows to look around the room. “Where’s Linda?”

Matt cocks his head to gesture behind him, at a spot Mello can’t see. “Over there.”

Mello feels her stomach knot up again. “Oh. Do you need to get back to her?”

Matt shakes his head, an amused glimmer in his eyes. “I think she’d rather I not.”

Mello frowns. “What?”

Matt purses his lips together, failing to conceal a smile. “I got as far as taking her shirt off, and then she dragged me into my room to tell me how attractive I am, and how sorry she was, but that she just couldn’t get over her hangups about being with a guy who has a girlfriend.”

Mello takes a moment to process. “Girlfriend.”

“Yep.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Ha!”

“I know. Here, lie down again.” Mello does, and Matt starts rubbing little circles into Mello’s scalp. “I just let her talk, and didn’t say anything myself, since, um-”

“Yeah.”

“--I didn’t want to--”

“Yeah.”

“--really go into all of the, um. All of the--”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Matt lets out a breathy chuckle. “So that was a bit of a wash.”

“I’ll say.”

Matt’s fingers stop massaging Mello’s scalp and start combing lightly through her hair, fixing the tangles that formed. “But hey,” Matt says, “maybe...we should talk. After this.”

Mello tilts her head back so she can look Matt in the eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. If you want.”

Mello smiles, feels fondness warm in her chest and on her cheeks. “Okay. Yeah. I’d like that.”

Matt smiles back. “Great.”

They share a comfortable silence, Matt carding his fingers through Mello’s hair, Mello relaxing into his touch.

Then Matt’s fingers stop. “So,” he says, “Near, huh?”

“I was enjoying that,” Mello protests. “We were having a moment.”

“ _So, Near, huh_?”

“Ugh. Fine.”

“Thought you weren’t too fond of her.”

“I wasn’t-- I’m not. I was just trying to--” _Make her leave_ , Mello thinks, then wonders what exactly made her think that asking Near for a massage would accomplish that goal. She remembers having a plan, but she no longer remembers what it was or how she planned to execute it. She chalks it up to alcohol-fueled bad decisions.

“Just trying to…?”

“Never mind. Here, I’m gonna sit up.” Matt takes his hands out of Mello’s hair so she can sit up. She turns around to face him. “Come here.”

Matt kisses her once, lightly, then pulls away. When Mello leans in to follow his lips, he turns his head so she gets his cheek.

“Asshole,” she murmurs.

“More important things,” Matt says. “I wanna hear about your first lesbian experience.”

Mello looks toward the bathroom. The door is still closed. “It was nice,” she admits in a near-whisper. “It was, uh. Um.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah.”

“Ha.”

“Don’t mock me. Words are hard now.”

Matt smirks. “That good, huh?”

Mello swats at him. “Fuck off.”

Matt accepts the mild physical admonishment, chuckling. “‘Kay. So, are you gonna do her now?”

Mello’s brain shorts out. “Uh.”

Near comes out of the bathroom. Mello looks at Matt.

“Should I?”

Matt shrugs. “Don’t ask me,” he says.

Mello thinks. She makes a choice. She gives Matt another kiss and gets up, greeting Near with eye contact and a brief nod.

“Hi,” Near says, sounding a little unsure.

“Um,” Mello says, off to a great start. “So. So, um. Thanks.”

Near raises an eyebrow. Mello feels the horrid awkwardness creep back into her limbs. “Anytime,” Near replies, her cool voice an embarrassing foil to Mello’s stuttering bullshit.

“Right, um. Well. If you want I could...return the favor?” Mello feels her cheeks heat up.

Near’s eyes go wide, and her face turns pink all over. “Oh,” she says. “Um.” Success. Now Mello’s not the only one having trouble finding words. “I’ve...never…..”

“Me neither,” Mello says.

Near shoots Mello a strange look. “That’s definitely not true,” she says.

Mello gives that strange look right back. “What? I’ve never been in an orgy.” She takes a breath and admits, “I’ve never been with a girl.”

Near looks at Mello pointedly. “I’ve never had sex.”

“Oh.” Mello feels the situation change. She starts processing. “You’re 21.”

“Yes.”

“You’re a virgin at 21.”

“...Yes.”

“That must be really lonely,” Mello says, mostly thinking aloud.

“It is,” Near responds dryly, “thanks for pointing that out.”

“Yeah.” Mello stares at Near’s shoulder, still processing. “You’ve never had sex.”

“Yes.”

“This is an orgy.”

“Yes.”

“You’re losing your virginity at an orgy.”

Near blinks her wide, innocent, virgin eyes once. Twice. Then, “At the rate you’re going, I’ll never lose it.”

“Holy hell,” Mello says.

Near grins. “But no pressure.”

“Fuck you.”

“Please.”

Mello turns back toward the living room, where things have heated up significantly while Mello was paying them no attention. Mello feels overdressed in her bra and panties. Near, in her sports bra and white pants, looks completely out of place.

Mello can fix that.

“Come on,” she says, taking Near by the hand and leading her into the living room. The couch has been pulled out--smart thinking, maybe Matt’s doing--but is already in use, so Mello settles for the floor again. She’s briefly struck with a sense of injustice, but Near seats herself on the floor and begins taking off her pants, and Mello forgets that she has been wronged.

“I should do that,” she says, dropping to her knees to help Near.

“You were taking too long,” Near replies. Mello doesn’t argue.

Near’s panties are gray, and they match her sports bra. As far as underwear goes, Near’s is very plain and very boring, but Near herself, now lying on her back with her knees bent, hair splayed out around her head, looking up at Mello expectantly, is anything but. Mello feels a little breathless looking down at her.

She reaches out to run her hands along Near’s legs. Thin, pale hairs tickle her palms, and she stares, entranced by the sensation.

“Have you ever been kissed?” Mello asks.

“I’ve kissed you,” Near points out.

Mello shakes her head. “No, I mean properly kissed.”

“Then no.”

“Well, you’re about to be.” Mello lets go of Near’s legs so she can lean in and kiss her.

Near’s lips are softer and fuller than the lips of any boy Mello’s ever kissed. It’s a pleasant difference, and Mello sinks easily into the kiss, tonguing lightly at Near’s lower lip until Near, following Mello’s lead, meets Mello’s tongue with her own.

Mello settles herself fully onto Near. Near tangles her fingers into Mello’s hair. They kiss slowly and languidly, breaking every so often so Mello can nip at Near’s lips or press kisses down her jaw.

Mello trails kisses down Near’s neck, and Near’s fingers tighten in Mello’s hair. Mello smiles against Near’s neck, then lightly scrapes her teeth along her skin. Near gasps and pushes her hips up into Mello’s.

“Good,” Mello murmurs, continuing to kiss and nip at Near’s neck. Her cheek brushes against the strap of Near’s bra, and she pulls herself away from Near and sits up. “Take your bra off.”

Near sits up to pull the bra over her head then lies back down, her small breasts exposed. Mello cups them in her hands, rolls Near’s nipples between her fingers. Near’s thighs tighten around Mello’s hips.

“More of that,” Near says, as though Mello couldn’t already tell. Mello continues playing with Near’s nipples, watching her squirm and huff. Then Mello leans down and takes one of Near’s nipples on her mouth. She runs her tongue over it, her gaze flicking up to gauge Near’s reaction.

Near lets out a shaky breath. Mello sucks lightly on Near’s nipple, and Near lets out a breathy moan. Mello switches to the other nipple, to a similar reaction. Near squirms under Mello’s attentions, and attempts to squeeze her thighs together again.

Mello scrapes her teeth over Near’s nipple, then presses a kiss between Near’s breasts, then another kiss underneath that one, then another kiss midway between her breasts and her belly button. Her heart races. She knows what she wants to do.

Mello kisses all the way down, until her lips hit the waistband of Near’s gray panties. She looks up to see Near staring down at her, pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, lips parted. Then, sure she has Near’s full attention, she helps Near out of her panties, leans in again, and licks her lips.

Near makes a small sound in the back of her throat and draws in and holds a breath.

Mello flicks her tongue along Near’s clit. Near exhales hard. Mello wishes she had a moment to get used to this, to Near, to all the feelings small and large she knows are waiting for her once this night ends. Instead she focuses on the moment, the physical sensations. The smooth skin under her tongue, the wispy hairs tickling her nose, the soft pills of carpet digging into her elbows. Near’s fingers finding their way into her her hair again. The backs of Near’s thighs tensing under Mello’s hands.

Near moans lightly. Mello strokes one of Near’s thighs, again enthralled by the thin hair there. Mello keeps herself impeccably shaved--for tonight, even waxed--because she’s never been able to see her own body hair as anything but gross. Near’s, though, Near’s is exciting. Enticing. Sexy, in a way that could never work for Mello but that Near pulls off without trying.

Mello tightens her grip on Near’s thighs. Near has Mello aching again, and she’s not even _trying_.

Near twists her fingers in Mello’s hair. “More,” she murmurs. “Touch me,” and Mello desperately wants to give her what she wants.

Then she’s got two fingers in Near, pulsing her fingertips in a rhythm that makes Near’s breath shake. Her other hand grips Near’s thigh to steady them both. Her tongue still flicks against Near’s clit. Near’s legs lock around Mello’s shoulders, tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing. Her fingers have stopped moving in Mello’s hair and are now curled tight there, pulling at the tangles in a way that hurts, but Mello doesn’t mind, she doesn’t stop, she has to finish and she’s _so close_ , she’s _right there_. She isn’t even the one being touched and yet she feels like she’s on the edge of some sort of greatness.

Near tenses up completely, around Mello and underneath Mello and beside Mello, and she takes sharp, gasping breaths, and Mello pushes into her and against her, and then, _then_ \--

Release. It’s quiet, almost silent, but Mello feels it in every point of contact she has with Near. She stares, wide-eyed, awestruck and flushed with pride. She’s never gotten such satisfaction from giving someone else pleasure. She almost hates herself for it.

Near opens her eyes and looks down at Mello. Mello meets her gaze. She gets the urge to kiss Near again and gives in to it, dragging herself back up to a sitting position so she can lean down and capture Near’s pliant lips with her own.

Near doesn’t do much in the way of kissing back. She probably can’t yet, Mello thinks with no small amount of pride, but Mello kisses her anyway, softly and sweetly in a way Mello usually can’t stand to kiss anyone but Matt. She almost hates herself for this, too.

Near’s hands shake when she lifts them and places them in Mello’s hair again, but she does her best with clumsy fingers to pull apart the tangles and fix the mess she made.

“Don’t bother,” Mello whispers into Near’s ear. “I’ll take care of it later.”

“But it’s tangled now,” Near whispers back. “Why are we whispering?”

A good question, and one Mello doesn’t want to think about. There’s something so intimate about a hushed, private conversation in a crowded room. “I’ll take care of it,” Mello repeats, and kisses Near again.

When they pull away, Mello feels somehow changed. She doesn’t want to look at Near, but she does, and Near looks somehow changed as well. Mello can’t articulate these changes, so she doesn’t try, but rather breaks her gaze to look at the floor next to Near’s head.

“Mello,” Near says, a mild waver in her voice.

“Hm.” Mello won’t look at Near. She doesn’t think she can, not right now.

“This is a little more to handle than I was expecting.”

Mello does look at Near, then. Near’s twirling a lock of her hair, a nervous tic that hasn’t shown up for most of tonight. She looks about as fragile as Mello feels. She isn’t looking at Mello.

“Actually,” Near amends, “it’s a lot more than I was expecting.”

Mello takes a shaky breath. In, out. “Yeah,” she agrees. “I know.”

“It was good. It’s just a lot.”

“Yeah.”

Near sits up, hand still tugging at her hair. “I think I should go.”

“Okay.” Mello hands Near her bra and panties, and goes looking for Near’s shirt while Near grabs her pants and disappears into the entryway, a wall removed from any prying eyes. Matt catches her eye, gives her a questioning look, and Mello feels a little better, a little more grounded, but not much. She returns to Near. “You can’t wear this shirt.”

“I know.”

“Leave it here and I’ll wash it. You can borrow something of mine.”

“Sure. Anything’s fine.”

Mello nods. She grabs the first clean shirt she finds in her bedroom and offers it to Near. “Here.”

“Thanks. I’ll give it back soon.”

“Right.”

Near, now fully dressed save for her coat, which she has in her hand, heads for the door. They don’t exchange any more words. Then Near is gone. Mello feels simultaneously that it can’t end this way and that this is not the end.

She returns to the living room and heads directly for Matt. He’s tapped out for a bit, and Mello hates to think that it’s because of her, but it definitely is. She still feels fragile and on edge. She tries not to show it. Matt notices anyway.

“Come here,” he says, and pulls her in for a long, sweet kiss. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Mello says, and she finds that it’s true. “Oh my God, though.”

“Yeah, I saw,” Matt says. “Having feelings?”

Mello waves the thought away. “I’ll get them fucked out of me.”

Matt chuckles. “Sounds like you. I was surprised, though. I mean, hell, I was surprised when you told me to invite her.”

“Oh, ha ha, right.”

Matt looks at Mello strangely. “You don’t remember?” he asks.

Mello rolls her eyes. “Do not try to get me with that shit. I didn’t invite her.”

Matt’s face stretches into something mildly awful. He’s trying very hard not to grin. “You don’t remember,” he says.

“No, stop it. How would I not remember inviting her?”

Matt chuckles like he knows something she doesn’t know. Mello feels dread begin to pool in her stomach. He’s not kidding. She’s not going to like this. “It was that night we went bar-hopping with those awful classmates of yours, and you got super wasted in an hour and a half and I had to bring you home. Thank God, too, I hated those people. You demanded that I invite her. You wouldn’t invite her yourself, you wanted me to do it, and you wouldn’t let me go to sleep until I did.”

It takes a second for the full weight of the truth to sink in. Mello stares, eyes wide, jaw slack, while she tries to process what Matt’s just said. It can’t be, and yet Mello knows it is. She covers her face with her hand. “I wouldn’t. I didn’t.”

“You would, and you did.”

“And you didn’t stop me?”

“Mello, there is no stopping you. You know this.”

“I know. But still. You should have.”

Matt wraps his arms around Mello, the gesture woefully inadequate to protect her from herself, but soothing nonetheless. “I don’t know about that,” he says. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He pauses. “And her.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s true, though. Just think: the next time you two have one of your little petty fights, you’ve got a fun new way to blow off steam.”

“God. As if I’d ever.”

“You just did.”

“Ugh. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Matt pats her ass. “Good. You’ve got a whole living room full of people who would love your attention. Can I take your bra off?” He unclasps it without waiting for Mello’s answer.

“Sure,” Mello says belatedly.

“Thanks. Now get back in there and enjoy your birthday sex.”

“Right,” Mello says, and does.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
